Real Chicken and Cake at Dinner

I went up to see him this afternoon. He’s looking grayer, but I think that’s more the fact he hasn’t been able to shave or clip his hair. Apparently Sunday food sucks, but on Wednesdays they have REAL CHICKEN. Also, there’s cake at almost every dinner, or at least some cookies. One of the people on his floor asked to have the wrapper from one of the rolls of toilet paper in their room. The guy was rolling a joint filled with dried lettuce. “He’s a little tapped,” he told me. “Tonight he’s trying to smoke a banana peel.”

Then he told me to eat. Again. “Real food.” He’s lamenting about only getting about 2700 calories a day, and wasn’t impressed when I told him what I’m eating.

I am eating.

I’m just not cooking up a full meal for myself. What I’m eating is fine, and I’m not hungry. I shouldn’t have been so proud of losing 5 lbs.

We talked about some of the details, and I updated him on what’s happening in the house right now. I get to pack him a bag to take with him when he’s shipped home. He what he wants me to make sure goes into it. The list includes his paperwork, some deodorant, and whatever cigarettes he might have laying around. Also on n the list are a pair of boots, and a pair of sneakers. Oh, a bunch of plaid shirts, and all his socks and underwear. And maybe a toothbrush.

I don’t know what sort of Bag of Holding he thinks he’s got in the back of the closet. However, he’ll swap out the Converse for the boots when he’s leaving. He plans to throw out the jeans he was arrested in, which will also lighten the load somewhat.

I’m working on clearing all the miscellaneous stuff off the dining room table. Almost the entire table was painting things, and the remainder was my makeup area. I cleared the makeup area and the top drawer of my makeup toolbox. There were a lot of things I just threw into a box to go in the trash. I saved about half of the eyeshadow palettes, and tossed a few. I’ll sanitize the rest and sell them at my yard sale. Tomorrow, I’ll tackle the lipstick drawer.

Plan Eh

He asked how the planning is going. I told him about the pages of lists outlining what I need to keep, and what I’ll bring with me. His plans deal mostly with what he’ll do when he lands, mainly getting a new license, job, phone, and a car.

At this point, my current plan is to go with the idea of getting a new car and building a sleeping platform in it. First, it’s the cheapest of all the plans. A little teardrop camper trailer would have been great, but the added cost wouldn’t be worth it. I can get the car, buy a foam mattress, and build the platform over a weekend or so. Then I load that sucker up with blankets and quilts, a la The Princess and the Pea.

Then I told him how scared I am. How I can’t do this alone, and I don’t want to be alone anymore. I looked like I was going to cry, and I hate crying. He pulled a little scrap of paper out of his pocket and pressed it against the glass.

To me you are PERFECT <3

“I think that’s a good plan,” he told me. “You’re doing awesome. You’ve got this.”

I wish I had his faith in me.